What Seminar?
by SmutItOut
Summary: Gilbert Grissom heads out to San Fransisco to give a week long lecture, when in walks Sara Sidle; someone who's made him say and do things he's ever done before, causing him to realize how completely out of character he is.. and even how much he likes it.
1. Chapter 1

**It was San Francisco, and Gil Grissom was a single man. He had taken some time off to give a lecture there, and he knew no one in town, so yeah, why the hell not? The first few days had the typical humdrum of a business trip, and Grissom was horny. At this point it was manageable, nothing a pay per view at his hotel couldn't take care of. On the third day, everything changes as a fire is ignited within him that changes his whole demeanor.**

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Sara Sidle finds an empty seat in third row. Not wanting to sit so close, she didn't have much choice. How could she possibly manage to keep herself focused during a five hour lecture, when everyone had told her he was monotonous? Never in a million years did she expect _this_ guy. The man stepped up to the podium, put his briefcase beside it, took his glasses out of his pocket, and slid them onto the bridge of his nose. "_He's certainly no Ben Stein_," she thought, as she shifted her legs, crossing one over the other.

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**Grissom turned to face his students, but his breath caught and he couldn't help but stare at **_**her**_**. He moved quickly behind the podium, fumbling with his notes, as he tried desperately to hide his massive erection. His mouth was unable to form words, and he seemed to babble for a moment. No one seemed to notice what was really going on as he gripped his papers, gently rapping them against the surface to even them out; or was it to buy some time? From about the room, he heard stifled coughs and sniffles, as students waited for him to begin. His eyes moved awkwardly about the room, so embarrassed, as if he had just accidentally, bumped into her and touched a breast.**

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Wow. There was nothing more for Sara to think. He stood there, looking foolish… foolish but somehow oddly cute. She noticed his eyes roaming the room, but almost magnetically coming back to her own, thinking how stupid of her to skip class for two days, and miss _this_. For a moment, when he had first turned around, they locked eyes. She giggled when he started to fumble, and quickly used the podium as a shield. Sara couldn't lie; she absolutely, positively, loved being a tease. Throughout the lecture, she hunched forward leaning into the table watching him closely. Every now and then his eyes would lock with hers again, and she'd oh-so-subtly waggle an eyebrow at him. Other times, she'd look away. Even she couldn't deny what she was doing was terrible. She whispered to herself, "_Fuckin' tease."_ The corners of her mouth danced into a smirk.

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**Surprisingly, to himself, he was able to keep his composure for the majority of the class. Luckily for him, this lecture was ritualistic and the words came out as if he'd practiced for days. Whenever he managed to think he was finally calm, cool, and collected he'd look back over at her, and his pants would jump again. He groin throbbed behind the podium, and he stood carefully as to not bump against it and harm his sensitive throbbing head.**

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"Depending on the preferred of hand used by the individual, the angle…."

_What is he talking about chainsaws for? Let's skip class, and fuck. _Sara had to admit, this growing hunger within her was out of the ordinary for just some random guy she had seen. At this point, she didn't care. She hadn't fucked anyone in months, and this man, he threatened to bring her to climax by just staring at her; but she needed more hands on contact… she craved it. She felt as though fireworks were going throughout the room, and only they could see them. _"He did feel them, right?"_ She was certain he did, he had to. He was practically undressing her with his eyes… those sexy bedroom eyes. The blueness of them pierced straight through her and she wanted to be swimming within them.

Her pussy was on fire, and dripping wet at the same time. This had happened before, though, she had spent some time with the fellow and had casual touching first, but this was different. She couldn't stand looking at him any longer. With 15 minutes left in the class she slowly stood up, exaggerating her movements as she walked to the back of the auditorium. When she got to the door, she seductively looked back at him, and disappeared through the entrance.


	2. Chapter 2

**When Grissom exited the auditorium he looked, frantically, left and right to try and spot this girl. "**_**Who was she?**_**" He didn't know. The only thing that he was certain of, was that he wanted her; badly. He didn't have long before the dinner party started. At the end of every day, there was a dinner party for the lecturers and students. Instead of spending the next thirty minutes looking for her, he headed to his room to get ready in hopes that she too would be at the dinner.**

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Sara lived only three blocks from the campus, so she headed home to change for the dinner party tonight. She wasn't about to skip that and miss the chance of having some hot sex tonight. She was a prowess, so fuck hungry that if she had to, she'd call this Mr. Grissom out in class. It was that bad and she couldn't rely on masturbating and sex toys any longer.

While she was dressing, she applied lotion while softly caressed her own body, using slight strokes all over. She imagined it was him, but the fire within her burned that image into a pile of smoldering charcoal and ash. She didn't need a slow fuck; she wanted raw-take-me-here-and-now-so-good-the-neighbors-need-a-cigarette sex. She grabbed her things, and headed out the door.

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**Gil jumped in the shower when he got back in his room. He couldn't resist touching himself as the water pounded along his body. He needed relief since he felt like there was so much pent up libido from today's massive erection – and the inability to tame it. He stood in the shower, and lathered up his hands with soap. He placed the soap back on the holder with his left hand while his right went straight to his cock. He pleased himself with a variation of speeds, first starting off slow and sensual, then increasingly more rapid and with more pressure. He fantasized about this girl, this girl he did not know.**

**His left hand roamed along his abdomen, down to his balls, and back up again; repetitively. Before long he found himself using his left hand out in front of him on the shower wall to steady himself for his climactic finish. His juices exploded from the head of his penis in spurts, and soon it was over. He thought he'd feel better, but he didn't. He needed to find **_**this**_** girl; tonight. He put on a suit and tie, dabbed on a bit of cologne, grabbed his wallet and headed down stairs to the ball room.**

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Upon entering the ballroom, several people stopped to stare at Sara. She had never considered herself hot or anything of that nature, but she was fine with being the girl next store. So didn't think a woman should have to put on makeup to be beautiful, and frankly she didn't like spending the time doing so herself. The other people weren't the least of her worries, she set out to attend the dinner only to get her hands on one man; Gil Grissom.

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**Grissom sat at a table with some of his fellow colleagues and students discussing the importance of Forensic Science. He didn't mind the weird looks when people told him he was a Forensic Entomologist. He loved his hobby, and didn't care if no one else did because that made it all the more special. He wasn't there long before he saw her enter the room. At that point, nothing else mattered. His conversation was dropped, trailing from his lips as the room seemed to become inanimate; except for her. She began to float, it seemed, over to his table when he caught her eye. When she arrived at the table, he stood to welcome her, bumping the table in embarrassment because of his slow reaction. Standing he stared at her, until he realized he had said nothing.**

**He extended his hand, "Hi, I'm Gil Grissom. And you are?"**

**She accepted his gesture. "I'm Sara Sidle. It's a pleasure to **_**finally**_** meet you."**

**The word pleasure echoed though his body. **_**"You have no idea," **_**he thought, as he rounded her chair to seat her.**


	3. Chapter 3

She sat down in her chair and he gently scooted her chair inward, when someone walked by. The presence had wafted the sweet smell of her hair into his nostrils, and chills reverberated through his body. He moved back to his chair, and seated himself looking down at the table. He needed a moment before he could look up and into her eyes, so he opened his napkin in his lap, and placed his silverware on either side of his placemat before finally looking up. She seemed to be in slow motion talking with the other residents of the table, smiling and nodding in agreement. They all chatted for a while, going through the motions of the fake conversations. Fact is, no one really ever cared how you were doing or what you were going to school for; they had all heard it a thousand times over. Gil stood when Sara got up from the table, and excused herself. Before turning to leave, she stopped and picked up something at the same time that he spotted it and tried to grab for it.

"Oh. I think you dropped your napkin, Mr. Grissom."

He rose up meeting her face to face. "Thank you, Sara… but you can call me Gil."

She smiled a crooked smile. "Okay, Gil." She handed to the napkin to him, smiled one last time at their party, and turned to leave.

He sat back in his chair, and looked down at the napkin, about to toss it away.

"_Room 403.  
Campton Place."_

Gil looked up from the napkin as he casually slipped it into his pocket. His mind was going berserk at the thought of what to do. He should go, definitely, he told himself. He decided that is what he was going to do, and gave himself 15 minutes between her departure before he excused himself.

"Well folks, it was good talking with you. I'll see you all at the next get together," as he smirked, "and some of you in class. Enjoy your night." He stepped behind his chair, and pushed it in as the group at his table bid him goodnight.

He left the campus, practically with a dash, as he jumped in his car, and speed down the road. His heart quickened as he stomped on the accelerator; sweat pouring down from his temples. "_What am I doing?_" he wondered, still speeding along. He fumbled with a tourist map at a stop-light, spotting the Campton Place on the map just before the light turned green. He threw the map aside, and accelerated through traffic.

Nearing the hotel, it became harder for him to swallow. He used the sleeves of his dress coat to wipe away at the sweat on his face. He found a parking spot, and turned off the car. He sat in silence, in the dark with his hands fiercely gripping the steering wheel. He relaxed and pulled the napkin out of his jacket pocket. Staring at it for a moment, he tried to blink, but the words were still there.

"_Room 403.  
Campton Place."_

He thought, for a moment, until there was nothing else to think about, and then he stepped out of the car, and into the hotel. He clinched his jaw as he walked through the lobby. It felt as though the clerk was staring straight into him, and knew what was about to happen. Sweat dripped from his brow, and he wiped ineffectively at it as he stepped into the elevator. He gave a glance and a nod to the clerk, and the doors closed.


	4. Chapter 4

Grissom rocked back and forth on his heels in anticipation. It seemed like seconds were taking hours to tick by, when finally the elevator came to a stop, and he heard the "_ding._" We stepped out slowing, looking down the hall to the left, and then the right. As he was taking another step he realized he hadn't got to re-freshen up after dinner, and headed to the nearest bathroom.

Once he found one, he disappeared quickly inside to wash his face. After splashing water on his face, he looked up.

"Toothbrush!"

This was one of those really fancy hotels, and it's true, they have everything in those bathrooms. He grabbed a new toothbrush, and a tiny sample bottle of toothpaste, and began brushing his teeth fervently. After fixing himself up as best he could, and putting on a spot of aftershave, he stepped out of the bathroom intent on finding Room 403.

Either there was still water on his face, or he was, again, sweating profusely. He tiptoed down the hall as he wiped away at his face. He finally came to a stop at a cracked door. "_Room 403._" He reached slowly out in front of him and pushed the door gently inward. In any normal situation, at a crime scene, this would've been a bad sign, and he would've gone in with back up. Tonight, he didn't want back up; he wanted this suspect all to himself.

He stepped slowly inward, and looked around the dark room. The cool air was refreshing, but where was she. He scanned the room carefully when he heard the door slam, "_bang,_" and felt hands around his waist. Breath at the nape of his neck sent shivers down his spine.

"And why do you think they call it a waist, Mr. Grissom?" Her hands tugged at his belt, stripping it violently away from his zipper. She unbuttoned his pants, and stopped at the zipper.

"Because I certainly don't think it's a waste," she said suggestively as her hand dipped down into his pants and cradled his hot cock.

"What's below it anyway," she said as he stumbled slightly backwards and let out an enormous sigh of pleasure. She came around to the front of him, and quickly ripped his belt from the loops. She stood before him wearing only an oversized dress shirt; unbuttoned. He studied her beautiful almond shaped eyes, the contours of her cheeks, and "_Oh God_," he thought, "_those lips_." He tried to look away from her lips, the amazingly wet and supple opening to her mouth. He wanted to be able to explore the rest of her body with his eyes, but he couldn't look away.

Before he knew it, that mouth he loved so much was hotly sucking at his pulsating erection. He fell back against the door, and braced he legs because what she was doing was sucking the strength from him, literally. He found himself with his hands gently rubbing and stroking her beautiful hair. Finally with the last bit of strength he had, he told her to stop.


End file.
